Where's My Happily Ever After?
by FlyingTurkishNun
Summary: Every young witch aspires to achieve her dreams, they all aspire to find their happily ever afters. But with a mother who doesn't care, a father who does, and newly acquired friends, how hard is it to find your happily ever after? FredxOC
1. Mother Fails

In her dreams, she runs from him. From her. From _them._ From the ones who brought her down on her knees in sorrow. From those who never did quite grasp the concept of the word _'love.'_ From those who never understood the meaning of being a parent.

Though the daughter, our main character, hangs on every word her drunken Death Eater of a mother says, three words stand out to her. "You're not going."

Okay, maybe they're technically _four_ words, if you count _"you're"_ as _"you are"_.

Her mother pushes on, the faintest hint of Muggle alcohol on her breath, "Not this year, you're not. You can't. You're _not."_

She knows what _mother dearest_ says is final, but she hopes this will all blow over. That, maybe, tomorrow mom will wake up with a deadly hangover (maybe she'll _really_ die), and forget about this all.

But that's a lie. A fabricated dream she wants to hang on to. A false hope she gives herself so that she has something to hope for.

Her name, is Delilah Grace Madson. And with the gift of being a witch, she holds onto the hope of going back to Beauxbatons.

But her mother won't let her. Not this year. She won't go to learn any form of Witchcraft this year, if her mother has it her way. Her mother will not allow her any sense of happiness, any stray light of sunshine to wander into her daughter's life. Not today, not ever.

It's as though it's her dream to crush the fourteen-year-old's hope.

But her father won't have it that way. No. Not this year, not ever. Merlin, how Delilah loves her father. He's so calm, so gentle, so assertive. So what a parent _should_ be.

He is not a Death Eater. He is Father. He is the essence of love, the personification of gentility and kindness.

Father speaks, calmly, softly, "She shall be going to Hogwarts, then."

Mother sneers, nodding in disgusting agreement. "Let's see how long she lasts there."

And that's when her mother failed to destroy hope and happiness. No, in fact, that is when mother _brought_ hope in happiness.

That is the one time Mother failed.


	2. Silence Speaks

Silence is what speaks for Delilah as she sits silently in a compartment of the Hogwarts Express. Dysfunctional family left behind, she is free. Free from the fear of Mother. Free from the chains of the life of being a Death Eater's daughter.

She can almost taste it, and she closes her eyes, set on relishing in her freedom. But someone has other plans for her, she realizes, when the door to her compartment is thrown open in a sudden burst of audacity.

Two boys with identical complexions and stature walk into Delilah's compartment. She can't help but curl into herself in the slightest way, slightly fearful of these boys who walk so confidently.

"Oi! Fred! There's a girl in here!" One twin calls to the other, who is now revealed to be Fred.

Fred turns to Delilah, smiling softly at her, "Sorry, love, didn't see you! Do you mind if we sit here?"

Delilah shakes her head, blonde hair flowing back and forth as she assures them that they are welcome to sit with her if they want.

"Thanks!" The other twin calls, sitting across from her. Delilah's vibrant green eyes stare at the boys, soaking in their identical beings. Neither shift under her gaze; they merely stare back at her.

"I haven't seen you at Hogwarts before, or on the train for that matter," the nameless twin begins, "are you new to Hogwarts?"

Green eyes close as a sigh escapes a thin line of lips as the owner realizes she will have to speak, "Yes."

"First year?" The other twin, Fred, chirps curiously.

"Fourth," Delilah answers bluntly. She doesn't care how they view this; she's not going to open up much to them; she's merely going to answer their bountiful questions honestly. Delilah is only going to tell them what they want to know. Nothing more and nothing less.

The boys blink at each other in confusion. She hopes that maybe, just maybe, the two will shut up and let her enjoy her taste of freedom.

But, of course, nothing is ever that easy. Delilah never gets what she wants when she wants it.

_All in due time._ She thinks, _Soon I will taste sweet freedom._

"What's your name?" Fred asks.

"Delilah Madson," she answers monotonously.

Fred frowns only for a slightly, telling the girl that she's getting on his nerves. But then his smile returns like normal, and he speaks with a boisterous voice, more so than before, "I'm Fred Weasley."

"George Weasley," the other boy speaks.

Delilah nods, not telling them that it's a pleasure to meet them. Because, in a slight way, it's not. It's not a pleasure to be disturbed right now. Maybe if they had come in later, it would have been more of a pleasurable meeting.

It's George's turn to frown now, revealing the same message as his brother; this girl is annoying.

Delilah sighs, thinking in disdain to herself, _Do these even realize that their faces give it all away?_

In a soft, muffled voice, Delilah speaks on her own terms for once. It's a word of advice to the boys that they will not get for quite some time.

"Silence speaks."


	3. With Every Step

**A/N: So I feel odd (to say the least) about this story. Just the process of the whole plot and all, but I'll continue writing, since it seems to be quite popular. I haven't gotten into a flow with it yet, so don't expect chapters on a specific day of the week. For now, I'll be writing to write and see where it goes.  
Anyway! Enjoy chapter three. :)**

* * *

****Delilah stands in silence among the first-years; many of their eyes focused on her and her alone. It makes her uncomfortable, to say the least.

She looks out at the Great Hall through the double doors that seem larger than life. Peering out curiously, she caught a glimpse of a beautiful ceiling; it held stars and a moon and floating candles that made Delilah's eyes widen, if only in the slightest. Students chatted amongst each other anxiously.

She caught people staring at her, and she merely stares right back at them, green eyes boring into their very essence. And when she does so, their eyes fall away from her form. She intimidates.

A woman, standing proudly walks into the hallway that the first-years and Delilah stand in. The woman passes them a smile, introducing herself as Professor McGonagall.

Delilah sighs. She doesn't feel as though she has time for this. Why can't they just sort her and get on with their lives?

The blond is pulled from her thoughts when the woman calls out, "Delilah Madson?"

Her voice is rich with an English accent. Delilah's is not. It is coated in a layer of French that startles many when she steps out from the crowd of first-years and says softly, "Yes ma'am?"

The professors face lights up with a brilliant smile that makes Delilah inwardly cringe. The woman speaks with great excitement as she says, "You'll be sorted first, Ms. Madson, since you are going into your fourth year of Witchcraft."

Delilah nods, confidently making her way up to the front of the line of soon to be first-years who are being ordered alphabetically by last name. They file their way into the Great Hall as Dumbledore finishes his welcome speech.

The blond girl sighs, feeling out of place without her blue robes to shed some color that have now been replaced with black ones.

"We have a new student," Dumbledore begins, "coming into her fourth year of witchcraft. She is from France, from Beauxbatons. We expect _all of you_ to give you a warm welcome."

His voice holds a sense of warning, and his eyes slipped to Delilah's form she could have sworn she saw a twinkle in them.

And that's when a hat that she never knew was there began to speak, shocking her to the point where her eyes widened uncharacteristically once more.

_"A thousand years or more ago  
When I was newly sewn,  
There lived four wizards of renown,  
Whose names are still well known:_

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,  
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,  
They hatched a daring plan  
To educate young sorcerers  
Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders  
Formed their own house, for each  
Did value different virtues  
In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were  
Prized far beyond the rest;  
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest  
Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were  
Most worthy of admission;  
And power-hungry Slytherin  
Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide  
Their favourites from the throng,  
Yet how to pick the worthy ones  
When they were dead and gone?

Twas Gryffindor who found the way,  
He whipped me off his head  
The founders put some brains in me  
So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,  
I've never yet been wrong,  
I'll have a look inside your mind  
And tell where you belong!"

Clapping soon erupted from the students new and old. All of them except Delilah; she didn't know what to think. Didn't know how to feel.

So when Professor McGonagall smiled at the girl as she called out her name to step up and place this hat above her head, she couldn't help but feel strangely about the whole ordeal. It was, obviously, natural that she hesitated momentarily to step up and be "sorted".

She sighed, closing her green eyes momentarily as she stepped to the stool and felt the hat curl about her head.

_"Hm,"_ she hears the hat ponder, but does not show signs of wonder or excitement. "_You're a tough one."_

_"Whatever this Slytherin is," _Delilah thinks, hoping the hate can hear her, _"I'd prefer not to be in it. It doesn't sound right. I feel as though…I'd be following in my mother's footsteps."_

She feels the hat chuckle, the sound resounding not only throughout her mind, but throughout the Great Hall.

_"The thought never crossed my mind. What I __**was**__ thinking, though, was…" _ And he (_Does the hat even have a gender? _She wonders.) calls out, not considering her feelings of this new placement, "GRYFFINDOR!"

A cheer erupts from all tables, except the Slytherin, as she stands up, placing the hat on the stool once more.

And with every step she takes, she fills herself with insecurity and doubt, unsure where this new path will head.

And lastly, a thought resounds in her head that not even the greatest of philosophers could answer:

_How will mother react?_


	4. Letters

She has soon been encompassed by a staggering routine.

Wake up. Brush hair. Brush teeth. A shower if necessary. A change into robes. A walk into the Great Hall for a lonesome breakfast. A usually uneventful day full of boring classes and teachers who see not beyond the façade of smiles and answers.

Delilah realizes something one day as she sits in the Great Hall, picking at her food as she listens to the excited chatter of the other children. Everyone else receives letters from family. Families who love and care for each other and do not set out to destroy.

Families that are not like hers.

She chokes back tears that threaten to spill. Green eyes focus upon uneaten food as she listens to the approaching footsteps of someone who usually cares to intrude upon her routine.

It is Fred. He enjoys to sit by her in silence some days; retiring from the jokester lifestyle he had taken on with his brother.

Delilah never bothers with hellos or smiles to the boy, and he knows this as he takes a seat next to her and places a warm, calloused, hand atop her own.

She dares to glance up at his face, his golden brown eyes staring into her own green ones that leak a few tears.

He does not dare wipe them away. He does not dare show that they are even there. He dares to speak.

Voice calm and free of all trace of teasing, Fred speaks up, "Are you alright?"

Another voice responds, one that is cracking in the slightest of ways. Delilah asks a question that Fred does not understand; one he has no idea how to answer. "Why does Mother never send me letters?"

Tears start to spill now, and something besides routine envelopes Delilah.

Warm arms encompass the girls width, and she allows herself to break down. For once she does not care who sees her. She does not care who laughs or sends concerned looks. All that matters is that someone is holding her close, stroking her blond hair as they whisper nothings into her ear.

Fred stands, taking Delilah with him. He leads the crying form outside the castle, and she only knows this because she feels wind nip at her. The taller continues to whisper to her, telling her that all will be alright, though he knows not the intensity of Delilah's family life as he says this.

They sit by the Black Lake, Forbidden Forest in sight as green eyes open themselves.

Fred whispers softly to Delilah, inviting her to a friendship she does not know the levels of. He invites her to give her trust to him as he speaks softly, "What's happened?"

Chapped pink lips cannot help themselves but to begin to give up their silence and begin to move; forgetting their masters promise to never speak of those incidents.

Delilah sniffles, words falling from her lips as she begins to speak of Mother and her alcoholism and her undying devotion to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. She speaks of the abuse, showing the faded scars beneath her clothing.

She talks of Beauxbatons and the yearly safety it brought, but how she will never go back because of the three (or four) words that stand out, still freshly implanted into her minds eye.

Words of Father and the safety he brings her (however little it may be) he offers his child. Talk of the never-coming letters leave those pink lips as she shivers outside.

She does not realize that Fred has slipped his arm around her until it has been there for five minutes. She does not see that Fred has been crying until she sees a wet substance that cannot be rain slip from his eyes when she turns to see his reaction.

Once more, Fred envelopes Delilah into his warm embrace, tears continuously slipping from his eyes as he whispers,_ "I'm so sorry,"_ into her hair.

And that's when Delilah realizes that it has all come spilling out so easily to Fred. There was no hesitation, no reason to hold back, with this man.

It confuses her, and when Fred smiles down at her through his testy eyes and asks, "Have you ever ridden a broom?" She can only feel that this is his way of asking to be we friend, his excuse to see her again; a reason for her to come back to him.

So, she tells him the truth, words hanging themselves out to dry with the water of embarrassment hanging from them. "Mother never let me."

She can't help but smile for her first smile to Fred when he passes her a mischievous grin.

His voice rings with the same mischief that makes Delilah feel like anything he does with Fred is worth the risk. "Well she's not here, is she?"

Delilah grins, afraid to tell him that she has ridden one time, but was afraid to no end of how high up she was for fear of losing the first friend she's made at Hogwarts.

So instead, her green eyes alive with something besides hidden sorrow, she speaks with a faux tone of disappointment, "Well, I'm afraid I don't have a teacher..."

Fred grins in response, putting every fear Delilah has aside when he speaks.

_"Who ever said I wouldn't?"_

* * *

**_A/N: It's going to get into more of a story now, not just drabble-type things._**

**_I don't want to sound desperate when I say this, but I _****_do_****_ enjoy reviews. .-._**

**_So! Anyway. I hope anyone who read this enjoyed it, and keep an eye out for a new chapter. The storyline should be going a bit further now that I have an idea of where to take it._**

**_And I apologize for any typos; this was written on my iPod. _**

**_-Z-_**


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